Perharps
by mk17design
Summary: "Victim? He almost killed me!" - it took two conversations and one look for Lily Evans to see through James Potter's five years of arrogance.


Double prompt:  
>1) JPLE, "the reason lily gives james a chance / what he does to win her over other than stalking", requested by whiterabbit111  
>2) "fragile", requested by JJLiberty<p>

Originally written for my Marauders drabble series "Romance Without Words" as a continuation of chapter 3: "Butterfly Effect", though can be read separately. If interested, check my profile for the rest of the drabbles.

Happy Halloween!

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><p><strong>Perharps<strong>

_What do you want?_

A girl with flaming red hair stopped on her track in front of the hospital wing's door. She clutched her bag tighter as she heard a familiar voice coming from inside a closed ward.

It was her friend – oh, wait. She frowned at the idea. It was her _ex_-friend.

_Last night he was admitted to the hospital wing,_ her roommate said, _I wonder if he's finally done it... Nasty business, dark arts._

She couldn't care less. After being named inappropriately in front of the whole school, she decided that she had had enough – enough of his friends, enough of his foolish obsessions, enough of his stupidity, enough of him.

Maybe she should see the matron later. Her roommate could deal with her hangover for another hour if it meant successfully avoiding her ex-best friend.  
>She was already turning on her heels when another voice reached her ears.<p>

_Don't give me that. I'm looking for you, obviously._

She froze.  
>It couldn't be –<p>

_Come to mock me? Well go on. I can always tell people about your furry little problem._

_I'm here to apologise._

It was him – the second last person she would want to see in the whole wide world – speaking from inside the ward. Of all people, it was that strutting son of a... It was like he had not done enough damage already.

_What?_ The first voice snapped.

_Last night, it's not his fault. _The second voice continued grimly. _Don't take it out on him. _

_Your so-called friends, Mister Popular, were trying to kill me. I've always known your sense of humour is sickening, but to actually –_

Oh.  
>I should've known, she thought, rolling her eyes, another prank of the infamous jokers. They are getting out of hand, really. If only <em>that person<em> is not that loyal to the foul little group of idiots...

_Which is why I'm here. Take it out on us, but just leave him alone. He's as much as a victim as you are._

_VICTIM! THE BLOODY WEREWOLF ALMOST KILLED ME!_

Werewolf! She gasped. Surely they were not talking about –

_I said leave him alone. It was not his fault. And you weren't supposed to be there._

_I suppose the only reason I'm _here_ now is because you got cold feet in the end?_

His voice was trembling. She was not sure if it was a silent rage or merely hatred. They were talking about _that person._ She held her breath. Had they found out also? And _that person_ almost killed _him_ ...for a prank?

_Don't make me regret saving you._

_I didn't ask you to._

Silence.

She wondered what happened inside the closed ward.  
>She wondered if she should see <em>that person<em> and ask him to spill it all, or pretend that she heard nothing.  
>She wondered if she should be there at all.<p>

_I come to seek that you leave him alone._

The second voice was steady, though rather venomous – a sign of impatience and exhaustion. She had never heard such an extravagant person sounding so quiet it was almost frightening. Probably the same thing occurred to the other boy in the ward, as he gave no reply.

_I'm not asking you to forgive me for what I've done – what we've done – to you. He never took part of what we did and you know it. So I'm asking you keep this to yourself – not for me. He's innocent. You know it._

All she heard afterwards was the matron's clink of glass bottles and the crackling fire of torches on the corridor walls.

He knew about _that person.  
><em>Of course he knew - what was she thinking? They were roommates for almost five years. He knew about that person's darkest secret, yet he did not leave him. He _defended_ that person. It was almost unbelievable that such an arrogant person could stick to another human being like that. It was like that person was truly his _friend_, not a mere follower in the pack.

The sound of opened ward and echoing footsteps slapped her awake from her thought.

He was coming her way, she realised in horror. He would find out she had been eavesdropping, and – as much as she denied it – a walking bible of jinxes and hexes was never something you want to be caught eavesdropping on, especially when the walking bible was not in his best mood.

Her legs betrayed their owners. She stood still, rooted on the spot where she hadn't moved for the last few minutes, as the footsteps grow closer. She bit her lip in desperation, unable to sync her own limbs with her now-numb brain.

Just as expected, a boy with jet-black hair stepped out of the door. His hand slipped under the round, black-rimmed glasses to rub his eyes as he marched right into –

_Oi! Watch where – _

He stopped as fast as he started. Instead, his jaw dropped in surprise.

Her breath hitched as he blurted out her name.  
>She looked down, panicked.<p>

What should she say? Sorry I overheard you talking? Sorry I found out _that person_ almost killed him? Sorry I didn't mean to see you here apologising to your biggest enemy? Sorry I wasn't looking where I'm going? Sorry I was only looking for a hangover cure but there you were in my way?

_Sorry._

The word didn't come from her.  
>She blinked and looked up.<p>

The boy standing in front of her was anything but mad.  
>His jet-black hair was tousled, though more natural than usual. His face was pale and his hazel eyes were sunken. His usual boyish features were replaced by a tired expression of a person losing a battle.<p>

A weak smile crept across his face as he stepped aside.  
><em>Sorry,<em> he repeated.

The girl did not have the time to reply, for he bolted across her as soon as he could.  
>She stared at the tall figure running away from her, his long scarf flying behind his back.<p>

For the first time in her life, he was anything but arrogant.  
>...what<em> that person<em> told her was probably true.

For the first time in her life, he looked human.  
><em>...that person<em>'s loyalty to him was probably worth it.

And for the first time in her life, she saw him in a different light.  
>...he was probably not a bad person after all.<p> 


End file.
